Grease Monkeys and Orange Aprons
by Dublin O'Malley
Summary: Castiel Collins has worked at Home Depot for the past 2 years. Then Dean Winchester shows up and things take a turn left and right and up and down. Destiel. Young!Sammy M for later
1. Prologue

Home Depot.

Smells like sawdust, is covered in grease, cardboard and metal shavings. The smell of paint and spackle and oil is overbearing and overpowering. And Castiel loves it.

He's been working there for nearly two years and hasn't wanted another job since. Home Depot is…home.

He loves the high fluorescent lights above his head, the whooshing sounds of the display fans in the far right corner. The deep rumbling of the steam pipes beneath the concrete under his feet. The clanking of tools and nuts and bolts and chisels as people try and decide which they want more, which will work best for their household job. The smell of insulation and plastic. The feel of the plastic house siding as he runs his hands over it as he passes. He likes finding the little nuts and bolts beneath the large orange racks and returning them to their rightful places.

He's comforted when he hears the mechanical gears of the power lift grinding into action.

Ah, and then there's the auto-shop in the back left corner, hidden away by a heavy garage door proudly sporting the Home Depot logo and the words 'More Saving. More Doing.' in large white lettering. Castiel loves it there too. He loves the vulgar way the mechanics speak to each other. It seems like he doesn't go a day without hearing these phrases:

'Yo, Ronny! Socket wrench!'

'Who the Hell was in my toolbox?'

'Who spilled the grease? I nearly broke my fucking ankle!'

But it was on a Tuesday, in the middle of March when a new phrase entered the arsenal.

'Who's the new guy?'

Castiel doesn't know what possesses him to strain his ears and listen closer, but he does. One name filters through the haze of grease monkey talk and the clanking of hidden away beer bottles…

_Dean Winchester._

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><p><strong>Hey, everyone!<br>I was walking around I Lowes with my mom the other day, going to me a new door! :D  
>When I had this idea for Cas and Dean to meet in Home Depot. I know, kind of cheating on Lowes, right? <strong>

**This is just the prologue, more will come though, if I know you all like this one idea of mine. **

**Reviews are accepted, not required, but loved.**

**Feelings of an almost HUMAN nature,  
>Dublin O'Malley<strong>

**XOXOX  
><strong>


	2. Down South Jukin'

**Grease Monkeys and Orange Aprons**

**Chapter 1: Down South Jukin'**

**Song of the Chapter: Wanted Dead or Alive- Bon Jovi (;**

**A/N: Bit of a break from my writer's block on The Innocent. Hope you all like! :D  
><strong>

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><p>"Castiel Collins to checkout lane number five please. Castiel to checkout lane number five."<p>

Castiel looked up at the sound of his voice being called over the loudspeaker. It didn't happen often, but when it did, he normally had to help carry out the heavier things like grills and sandbags. He'd become one of the more muscled people in the group of employees that included his brother Gabriel and his uncle Balthazar. Balthazar was only part-time, so Castiel and Gabriel hardly ever saw him.

Castiel made his way through the throng of people, mainly men who had been forced by their wives and girlfriends to purchase copious quantities of Christmas decorations, and sighed in irritation when he spied Gabriel at checkout lane number five, tootsie pop dangling from his mouth.

"Hey, Cassy! Come 'ere!" Gabriel shouted, attracting the attention of a few passerby. Gabriel ignored them, continuing to flap his arms exaggeratedly, waving Castiel over. Castiel rolled his eyes and stepped up to the counter, crossing his arms over his orange Home Depot apron.

Gabriel hopped up and down excitedly, looking like a kid on Christmas morning. "Look! Look! Check out the new guy!" Gabriel practically squealed. "God, he's _so _hot," he purred, pointing with his lollipop towards the auto-mechanics 'cubby'.

"What are you talking about? I don't see any- _Oh_." Castiel's voice died in his throat as he spotted the person in question. Blue coveralls, already splattered with grease stains, were stretched tight over broad shoulders, evenly outlining the man's obviously lean physique. He carried two tires on his right shoulder, a heavy-looking toolbox dangling from his left hand. He moved with surprising grace.

"I told you. You so want to jump his bones," commented Gabriel, watching his little brother stare intently at the new grease monkey. He twirled the lollipop, making loud smacking sounds that caused an elderly woman to glare at him. Gabriel stuck his tongue out at her, colored red from the sucker, and she hurried away, an indignant expression painting her face.

"I do not!" Castiel hissed, glaring at his brother, who just waggled his eyebrows, smirking.

"If you say so, Cassy." Gabriel flicked the lollipop stick at Castiel. He swatted it to floor, giving his older brother a look of disgust.

"Don't call me that!" Castiel insisted. But Gabriel just walked away laughing, his light brown, mid-neck length hair swishing behind him. Castiel glared at his brother's retreating back. He loved his brother dearly, but he was a serious pain in the ass.

Castiel closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. He decided he needed a break. He turned around and pushed through the throng of people and out the automatic doors, digging in his pockets for his cigarettes. Gabriel thought it was a disgusting habit, and Castiel couldn't agree more. But he was addicted to the down time, and the way the smoke filled his lungs was almost comforting.

He grunted in frustration when he came up with no lighters, only gum wrappers and a twenty-collar bill. He dangled the 'cancer stick' from his mouth and continued rummaging through his pockets, walking down the narrow stretch of concrete that was the designated employee's smoking area, intending to stick his head through the back door of the auto-shop and ask around for a lighter.

He must not have been watching where he was going, because as soon as he opened the door he ran smack into two tires, a toolbox and hard muscle. Both men tumbled to the ground, Castiel landed hard on his arse and the mystery man dropping his toolbox with a loud clanging sound. Castiel got to his feet quickly, collisions being a daily occurrence at the store.

"-the Hell?" the man cursed, his eyes landing on Castiel who was regarding him calmly, cigarette still hanging from his lips. Castiel stuck a hand out, trying to hide how awestruck he was by how…beautiful this stranger was. Full lips, a light dusting of freckles (that may as well have been air-brushed on) and green eyes clearer than emeralds.

The man regarded it suspiciously, peering up at Castiel in the dim light of the street lamps that lined the store. He grasped Castiel's hand and allowed himself to be pulled up, surprised by the smaller man's imperceptible strength.

Castiel spoke around the cigarette in a way that can only be achieved from a decade and a half of smoking. "Castiel Collins. Sorry about that." Their hands were still clasped together and Castiel shook the other man's.

"Dean. Winchester. And don't worry about it." Dean couldn't help but noticing how _blue _Castiel's eyes were, even in the low light. Dean shook his head and focused on what he was saying.

"What?"

"I said, are you new?" Castiel already knew that answer, but he was just find with watching those pouty lips move. He found his gaze wandering to the other man's lips and had to heave his gawking eyes up to look at those deep emeralds.

"Yeah, I started today. Kinda slow, though. Don't you people _do _anything other than drink beer and gawk at Playboy magazines?" Dean visibly shuddered, remembering earlier that day how he'd had to pretend he actually enjoyed staring at female anatomy, which he REALLY did not.

Castiel chuckled, a small rumbling sound. " 'Fraid not. Don't worry, it gets better. They know you're gay yet?"

It wasn't the question itself that startled Dean, it was how casually it was asked. Dean blinked and felt his cheeks tingle. "Er, no. Didn't really plan on saying anything. Let them figure it out for themselves, you know?" Dean rubbed the back of his neck, feeling twitchy under Castiel's stare, which hadn't wavered since they'd collided.

"Got a light?"

"Uh, yeah." Dean patted his pockets and felt the outline of his father's old lighter. He pulled it from his pocket and tossed it to Castiel. Castiel caught it and lit the cigarette expertly, shaking the lighter as the flame died, apparently possessing the knowledge of the little trick Dean's dad had taught him at a young age. Shake the lighter, let it soak up the extra juice, then tilt it.

"Thanks." Castiel took a long drag from his cigarette, puffing the smoke out in a ring. Dean watched the smoke curl from his mouth just a little too intently, earning a grunt from Castiel.

Castiel smirked. This wasn't the first time he'd captured the eye of someone at work. Though, he wasn't really sure what caught their eye in the first place. To Castiel, he was a nerd. He had glasses that were thicker than windows, he always looked too tired. He just didn't think he looked good enough anywhere.

He tossed the lighter back to Dean, who caught it and rubbed his thumb over the stainless-steel casing. Castiel noticed two letters scratched into the face: _J.W. _

"Your dad?" Castiel pointed with his cigarette to the engraving. Dean nodded, pocketing the lighter hastily and looking away, feeling the old memories trying to dredge their way to the surface. "He's dead, isn't he?" Castiel recognized the look of grief and loss and abandonment. He couldn't count how many times he'd felt that way, especially after his father, Michael, had passed away.

"Yeah. He was walking home, drunk, and was hit by a car. Drunk pedestrian hit by a sober sixteen year old girl. Funniest shit I've ever heard." Dean smiled, looking down at his hands and pulling out a dirty old, red grease towel from the back pocket of his coveralls. He fiddled with it, still not looking at Castiel.

"Now," Dean said. "It's just me and Sammy."

"Sammy?" Castiel puffed out another cloud of smoke, not feeling a bit guilty for prying. If Dean didn't want to answer, then he wouldn't. Castiel had learned that one the hard way. People liked to ask him questions, if they ever got close enough. He almost always became defensive, stubbornly refusing to reveal his fragile past.

Dean fished in his pocket and came up with a cigarette of a more…healthy variety than Castiel's. Dean lit the stick and noticed Castiel's smirk.

"Lights? Really? _Marlboro Lights_? Seriously?" Castiel smiled and removed his cigarette from between his lips, tapping the ash to the ground.

Dean smiled back and took a long drag. "At least they're not Pall Malls." Castiel nodded in agreement. "And…Sam's my little brother. He's twelve going on thirty-four." Dean blew a trail of smoke out his nose, watching the people scurry in and out of the parking lot. Dean sighed. Sammy knew too much for a seventh grader.

"Good to know I'm not the only one with a small family. It's just me, Gabriel and my uncle Balthazar."

"What's with all the angel names?" Dean asked, curious to know more about this blue-eyed Castiel.

Castiel shrugged. "Not really sure. My father's name was Michael but-"

"Cassy! Oh, Caaaaassyy!" Castiel audibly groaned, dropping his cigarette and snubbing it with the toe of his boot. Gabriel sprinted over, grinning like the idiot he was.

"What, Gabriel?"

His old brother stopped short when he saw Dean. He raised his eyebrows and didn't even try to hide the fact that he was undressing Dean with his eyes, who glared at him.

"You need something?" Dean snapped, green eyes narrowing at Gabriel.

"Oh no, gorgeous, I'm perfectly content, as of now," Gabriel hummed. "You know, that smoking of yours is a nasty habit. You're going to ruin those pretty little lungs."

Castiel was becoming increasingly agitated. "Hey, Gabe?"

"Hmm?"

"Shut up." Castiel glared at his brother, who clutched his chest (on the wrong side, mind you) and feigned hurt.

"Your words cause me pain, brother." Gabriel pouted, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a mini Hershey bar. He unwrapped it and dropped the wrapper unceremoniously to the ground. Castiel stooped and picked it up, pocketing it. He was used to picking up Gabriel's candy wrappers by now, he'd been doing it since Gabriel could say 'gumdrop'.

"Good. Now get back to work before I sic Ash on you," Castiel threatened. Gabriel's eyes widened.

"No! Not that mullet-wearing, beer drinking, computer fixing geek! Fine, I'll go." Gabriel stuffed the candy bar into his mouth and skulked away, arms crossed over his chest like a four year old.

"Aaaaand…that was Gabriel," Castiel said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his worn and torn jeans. "Sorry about that."

"Don't worry about it. Hey, I gotta get back to work, but maybe I'll see you around," Dean said, looking like he wanted to do anything but leave.

"Yeah, sure," Castiel said, turning away as Dean heaved the tires onto his shoulder again.

"Nice meeting you, Dean!" Castiel called over his shoulder.

"You too, Cas!" Dean shouted back. Castiel cocked his head to the side, a bad habit that made it hard to hide his confusion. Dean had called him Cas...

The only nicknames he'd ever received were from his brother, which were always more or less embarrassing. He liked Cas.

He liked Dean Winchester.

And now he loved his job even more.

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><p><strong>I'm going to try and 'Americanise' my stories, you know, replacing the 's' with 'z'. I'm mostly American, so I might as well try. <strong>

**Castiel is a bit OOC for this story, he's more laid back but still self-conscious. I just can't imagine him without glasses so...I gave him glasses. **

**Right now, my Muse is snacking away happily at my thoughts, devouring them and making them pre-chewed so I can think better. Good, Muse, good. Normally, she's a a total bitch.**

**Feelings of an Almost HUMAN Nature,**  
><strong>Dublin O'Malley<strong>

**XOXOX**


	3. Wings and Names

**Grease Monkeys and Orange Aprons**

**Chapter 2: Wings and Names  
><strong>

**Song of the Chapter: Back In Black- AC/DC**

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><p><strong>I've been told that this Castiel is like Angel!Cas and 2014!Cas mixed together…you're pretty much right…but no orgies…*le sad face*<strong>

**Alright, enjoy the chapter!**

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><p>Castiel stepped out of the shower feeling refreshed and more than a little giddy. He was excited for work, more so than usual. He swiped a hand across the steam clouded bathroom mirror, catching a glimpse of himself through the small streak. He retrieved his glasses from the counter, slipping them over his eyes and finding comfort in the light pressure on his nose.<p>

As the fog began to dissipate, more and more of Castiel's body was revealed to himself. He didn't know why but he paid attention today, scrutinizing his body in a way that made even him uncomfortable. He still couldn't see what others saw, all his self-consciousness and insecurities made sure of that.

He thought his hair was okay, even if it always resembled sex hair. Gabriel constantly commented on it, telling him how jealous he was of his mop of dark hair and fawned over his 'sexiness'. Castiel always listened with half an ear, not believing a word that came out of his brother's mouth.

Then there was the small, silver earring he wore in his left ear. It had been his mother's and she'd worn it with everything. It had been given to him in her will. He only had one ear pierced so he kept the other earring and had it fashioned to fit around a chain. He wore that earring every day, in the shower, if he went swimming (which was a rarity), playing sport (again, another rarity). He wasn't much of a sports fan.

When he was in high school, he was almost always skins and it was a miracle if he made it on shirts. It had made him uncomfortable the way the other students had stared at his body, most did so with subtle glances, others would openly gawk. People just couldn't get over the fact that a sixteen year old had tattoos, and with as many as Castiel had, it must have been shocking.

A few tattoos is three, maybe four. Castiel had eight and was thinking of getting a ninth.

The first tattoo he ever got was when he was fourteen. He'd wanted something special, a symbol that _meant _something. That meant something to _him_. So, he'd asked the tattoo artist for wings. To symbolize his mother and father and his younger brother, Lucifer. They were all in heaven by then, angels that were watching from above.

The wings were etched in black ink and they took up the space from his shoulders to his lower back. They curved inward until the feathers at the very tip of either wing touched. He was proud of that tattoo; it meant so much to him.

Beneath the wings were three names:

_Lucifer Collins  
>1993-1999<em>

_Annabelle Collins  
>1964-1993<em>

_Michael Collins  
>1962-1998<em>

Castiel missed them all. But he still had Gabriel and, on occasion, Balthazar.

Castiel felt the tears threatening to spill and shook his head, hoping to rattle his depressing thoughts loose.

As Castiel wrapped a towel around his waist, he saw the tattoo on his side. In Russian characters were the words 'We'll meet again someday'. Another reference to his family. Another favorite of his.

Gabriel hadn't bat an eyelash at all the tattoos Castiel was having etched into his skin. Gabe had a few of his own, but not nearly as large and not nearly as many as Castiel.

Castiel glanced at his watch; it read _4:00 A.M. _He would have to continue this self-inspection later; he was going to be late for work.

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><p>"So, what'd you two talk about?" Gabriel asked, leaning against the rack of balsa wood. That was his way of being subtle.<p>

"Nothing much," Castiel said quietly, rearranging the wood so it wouldn't fall out and crush some poor elderly woman and her grandchildren. Yes, that had happened before and it still gave Castiel shivers. Speaking of shivers, he was starting to get the shakes. He hadn't had a smoke since yesterday after talking to Dean. He needed one right now, bad.

Gabriel huffed, displeased by Castiel's answer. He'd been hoping for details pertaining to a hot make-out session in the smoker's corner. No such luck.

"Gabe, cover for me. I need a smoke," Castiel told his older brother, who glared at him, attempting to burn holes in his forehead. Castiel smirked and walked away, rummaging in his pocket for his pack of cigarettes.

Castiel stepped outside into the March air, relishing in the feel of the still-chilly zephyr. Due to the sun not having risen yet, the street lamps were still casting a dim glow about the parking lot, turning everything orange and black and yellow. Castiel would have loved take a picture of it, but his camera was safe at home, sleeping inside its carrying case.

Castiel dug in his pockets for a lighter and to his dismay, yet again, found none. "Son of a bitch!" Castiel cursed, running a hand through his hair, frustrated. He _needed _a cigarette like, _yesterday_.

"Need a hand?"

Castiel turned around and saw Dean leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets, watching Castiel's quiet 'freak out'. Castiel grinned.

"My hero," he said, copping a southern drawl. He caught the lighter mid-air, nodding his thanks to Dean. Castiel let out a deep groan as the smoke filled his lungs and strangely, cleared his head. He lazily breathed out the smoke, watching it curl away from his mouth and up into the dark morning sky.

"My pleasure," Dean replied, holding his hand up and catching the lighter easily as Castiel tossed it back. Dean lit his own fag and hummed what sounded suspiciously like an AC/DC song. Castiel raised an eyebrow, watching Dean from his little corner. The coverall clad man had his eyes closed, a pleasant smile tilting the corners of his mouth. Castiel took this as his chance to really look at Dean. Castiel leant back against the brick building his free hand in his pocket, his other holding his cigarette.

Turns out, it _was _an AC/DC song. Back In Black, to be precise.

Castiel's eyes wandered over his face, the light dusting of freckles, his perfect nose, and those perfect lips. Oh, how Castiel was beginning to like Dean's lips. And now, those gorgeous lips were moving, but those beautiful green eyes stayed shut.

"Are you done eye raping me?" Dean asked casually, taking a drag from his cigarette. Castiel's eyes never left Dean's face.

He shrugged lazily. "Not quite. Nice taste in music, by the way," Castiel added, tapping his ash to the cracked sidewalk.

"Didn't peg you for a classic rock kinda guy," said Dean, rolling his head to the side to look at Castiel. He grinned at the blue-eyed, sex-haired man.

"There's plenty you don't know about me," Castiel said, waggling his eyebrows. "And it's only on occasion. I'm more into sixties rock. Pink Floyd is definitely a trip when you're high," said Castiel wistfully. It'd been a while, but he still remembered how elated and free he'd felt last time he let himself have any fun. Which was about five years ago. Damn Gabriel and his persuasiveness.

Dean's eyebrows were in his hairline and struggling to find purchase above his head. "I guess not," Dean said, turning his head back and taking one last pull from his fag then dropping it to the ground before snuffing it with his boot. "You're a mystery, Cas." With that, Dena turned and walked back into the auto-shop, leaving Castiel to stare longingly at his vacant spot.

Castiel gazed at Dean from his perch on the auto-lift. He was supposed to be re-stocking the Quik Cement, but he'd only gotten about two bags actually on the shelf in the forty-five minutes he'd been up there. One had fallen and scared the shit out of Gabriel by exploding at his feet.

The others were sitting in a pile beside Castiel, like a mountain of laundry that needed to be done, but had an unlikely chance of that actually happening.

Castiel let out a sigh; a girly, obsessed-over-Taylor-Lautner-pansy-shit-sigh (Castiel personally was in love with Kellan Lutz, but that's a story for another time). Castiel closed his eyes and turned away from the sight of Dean's bare back, the top half of his coveralls having been undone in an attempt to cool off in the persistent heating of the depot.

He heaved a bag onto his shoulder and slid it carefully onto the orange painted, diamond grated shelf. Normally, he'd be whistling the Smurf's work song, he loved his job so much, but right now, all he could think about was Dean. Dean. Dean. Dean. Fuck, he was so screwed.

"You've got it bad, Cassy."

Castiel jumped and nearly fell over the railing of the auto-lift. As he righted himself, he felt his left eye twitch, which only happened when he was extremely pissed off; which he was.

"Dammit, Gabriel!" Castiel hissed. "You scared the Hell outta me!" Castiel pushed his glasses up his nose.

Gabriel just grinned like an idiot. "I so saw this coming. You've got the hots for grease monkey, Winchester," he commented, looking pointedly behind Castiel at the shirtless Dean that Castiel had been praying had gone.

"I do not," he said defensively and knew he sounded like he was ten years old.

"Uh-huh, sure you don't. Just remember, be safe." And with that, Gabriel hoisted himself over the railing and used the rungs of the lever to 'Tarzan It' down to the floor. Castiel watched him go, his face going bright red from his brother's words. And of course, the one thing that had been clouding his thoughts for the past oh, twenty-four hours, waltzed over, shirtless.

"Cas! Hey, Cas! Come on down here! There's someone I want you to meet!" Dean called, waving the red, grease stained rag in the air. Castiel sucked in his breath and flicked the switch that levered the auto-lift down. Dean grinned at Castiel when he touched down. A boy stood by his side.

"Cas," Dean said. "This is my brother, Sammy."

The boy stuck out his hand. "It's Sam," he said, his shaggy brown hair falling into his eyes. For only twelve years old, the kid was almost as tall as Dean, and muscle was starting to become evident. Ah, puberty…let's just say Castiel was glad he was twenty-four now.

"Nice to meet you, Sam." Castiel shook his hand and the kid's mood seemed to brighten a bit. "Aren't you supposed to be in school?" It really wasn't Castiel's place to ask, but he needed to say something instead of look like an imbecile. So, he chose to stick his foot in his mouth. Smart.

"He got in a fight," Dean said, his tone sounding like he was trying to be stern. But Castiel heard the undertone of pride in his voice.

"But I won. And that douchebag, Crowley, started it-"

"Sam! Language!" Dean snapped. Sam's brown eyes widened, then he looked down at his floppy-soled, no longer white, trainers.

"Sorry," he muttered. Dean's face softened and he put an arm around his little brother.

"S'okay, Sammy. Here, go buy yourself a soda and a candy bar," Dean said, handing him a five dollar bill. Sam took it from his brother's hand like it was a fragile piece of china.

Sam's wide eyes looked up at Dean. "Really?" he asked, excited. Dean smiled and nodded. Sam practically skipped away, the kid was so happy.

Castiel watched him go with a small smile, barely perceptible, turning the corners of his lips. "You're brother's adorable. What happened to you?" Castiel joked.

Dean laughed. "Inhaled exhaust one too many times?" Castiel smiled. He noticed Dean watching his lips.

"What?"

"You should smile more," Dean commented. They were silent for a moment. "Do you know anything about cars?"

Castiel looked at his feet. "A little. Gabriel's taught me a few things he learned from Dad, but that's about it. Why?"

"Just curious. Want to come take a look at my car? I've been trying to teach Sam lately…but he kinda sucks at that kind of thing," Dena said, a lopsided smile turning his lips.

"I could teach him the way Gabriel taught me. What's Sam like to do?"

"He's a great artist. He loves to draw."

Castiel broke into a wide smile. "Perfect."

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><p><strong>Here we are second chapter! Thanks sooo much for all your reviews! They mean a lot and they feed my Muse, who is freakin' PMS'ing right now. She's whining, hungry and bitchy as Hell. <strong>

**Oh and, I was wondering if anyone would mind doing a banner for The Innocent or for this story? Maybe a little FanArt? I'd really like to see what some of you would come up with. (:**

**Reviews are accepted, not required, but loved.**

**Feelings of an almost HUMAN nature,  
>Dublin O'Malley<strong>

XOXOX


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